Why does the old man run?
He runs because he can.
To feel the sweat run down his back
The road beneath his feet.
The hardest part is getting out
It's getting past the door
Then shallow breaths
And achey limbs
Until he can unwind.
He can't run like he used to run
He's not young like he was
But still the old man likes to run
He runs because he can.
At first he's slightly out of breath
But then finds second wind
And beginning to find a rhythm now
He starts to hit his stride.
It takes a while to find full flow
For it all to come together
As he breaths through his nose
Pushes hard off the ground
And lives just in the moment.
All too soon he'll start to tire
And the breathing will
Soon be laboured
But for a precious few steps
As the rhythm kicks in
He's a runner and not an old man.
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